LETTERS OF DECEMBER, 1914.
My Dear F——
Am sitting in my dug-out scrawling this by the light of a signaller’s lamp. I was awake at 4.30 a.m., working hard practically ever since, and it is now dark with a beautiful moon rising. I have been very busy trying to get ahead of a German trench which they had sapped up to us. We arranged to have it stormed by Capt. O’Sullivan and Mr. Graham, but as the Royal Engineers could not let me have an officer to put a mine in just then, it had to be postponed for one day; and that brings us out of our trenches, as we are supposed to go into rest billets to-morrow night. Well, I have now settled that a battery of Field Artillery is to fire on them at fixed hours during the night, and Mr. T—— has been sent down there with his machine gun, so it is quite on the cards that we shall have a merry evening! I hear the guns opening as I write, and wonder if our friends, who greatly outnumber us, will rush us to-night or not. If they knew how very weak we were, I expect they would try!
I forgot to tell you that I was ordered to send away a Major, and consequently Major Alston had to go to the 2nd Battalion with two other officers. During my rounds this morning with the General he incautiously exposed himself, and he was instantly fired at, the bullet striking between us as we stood about a yard apart. Also, two minutes after I had finished shaving early in the day, a bullet came through the place breaking the pane of glass. Such is Providence, and you see that, so looked after, it is as safe here as in England, if it is our Lord’s will…. Your Mother sent me a second paper to fill in. It is curious to be a Trustee and do such work in the trenches. The sniping that is going on now is perfectly deafening.
Yours….
G——.
We go out of the trenches to-night, and after marching six miles to try and avoid the German shells we shall all put up at a small town where for the first time since November 10th we shall not be under fire, and when we shall have the opportunity of taking off our boots and sleeping without them, also for the first time since we left our port of landing on November 7th. The poor Colonel I took this dug-out from was killed last week, as I saw by the papers. He was a nice sensible man. I shall not be sorry to get out to-night and into bed for a change. My sleep yesterday was from 12 midnight to 5 a.m., and I was awakened three times to answer messages. No chance of any more during the 24 hours before or after. By the way, a story that happened quite lately might amuse you. An old Frenchwoman came to a house occupied by our cooks, and asked whether she might get some clothes out; for all the houses are deserted by the inhabitants. She presented a recommendation, obviously written in English by a foreigner. We thought her suspicious, detained her, took the permit, and sent her away without allowing her in. We cannot arrest her, as the Staff will not let us do so. Well, she then came and found out where the observation station of the heavy artillery was, and was seen to go into the building opposite, take some clothes, and come out, shutting the door and fastening the shutters; this marked the house, and she had not been gone 20 minutes when four shells landed together and blew the place to pieces, just missing the observation post! Of course she was a spy for the Germans, who watched from a church some distance off through a telescope, and so were shown where the station was. Then the guns opened on our cooks, but passed them, knocking down a wall alongside. Curious that we are not allowed to intern these people; but the French authorities object. Probably many messages are sent to the Germans by underground wires.
G.B.L.
P.S.—The last of this note is rather disjointed, but that is because I have been giving a learned dissertation on the best means of circumventing a German sap approaching us.
We left our trenches yesterday without regret, and retired some six miles way to a little country town about the size of Newry, where we are quartered, or rather billeted, for a couple of days before we go back again to our diggings. The exchange had to be done in the dark, and I got the regiment away without casualties, which was better than the night we went in, when I lost two men killed. It is strange being out of fire for the first time for three weeks, and nobody being killed or wounded beside one at present! Also it seems funny to see people walking again in the streets, and to hear children’s voices, instead of only soldiers dodging from house to house whilst these latter are falling to pieces about their ears and all around them. Your things duly arrived, and are at this moment being distributed to the men, and are much appreciated by them, excepting the chest protectors, which I suspect they will not wear! I am glad you have done so well with the plum-pudding fund for the Regiment. Your Mother’s offering was most generous, and Aunt E——’s too. We came out of the trenches by creeping down ditches, and then assembled at a place a mile away in the moonlight, and we stole cautiously along, leaving gaps between us, so that if we were shelled we should only lose a certain number. Many of the men could hardly stand, their feet were so numbed with the cold of the trenches, but we got them safely in about 10 p.m., and they are sleeping in all sorts of queer places. One lot are in a granary four stories high. There is only one ladder, so it will take nearly half an hour to get four hundred men out of the building. By-the-bye, you might tell Sir John Ross of a feat done by a Russian bullet which I would not have believed possible. The bullet struck one of our rifle barrels. Of course the distance was only 400 yards, but it cut clean through the massive steel barrel as if it had been butter! I know that it always takes four feet of earth to stop it. I have to go over now to dine with our Divisional Commander, General Davis. It seems so odd getting a night off like this. Khaki dress, of course. It was not my Brigade which did the bayonet charge; when that occurs, you will see the casualty list will be full of killed and wounded officers of this Regiment, I am afraid. It was my old Battalion, the 2nd R.I.R.